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Story:Kings of Strife/Part 52
Part Fifty-Two She had seen the sun rise and fall over the same city for days now. The last time she had seen this many people perish in one city was the night her country fell to pieces. Vainia fought in the rear of her vanguard and the first half of her army. She had seen little action herself, but she had witnessed and commanded her army fighting in front of her and the second half surrounding the city and its fortifications. The day had been a bloody one. King’s Town was populated and defended much lesser than she and her officers had predicted, but it was still holding thousands of enemies. There were no airships surrounding the metropolis, but there were waves of infantry and ground defenses. The first wave of her vanguard had been almost completely wiped out by the defenses of those from within the fences and structures surrounding King’s Town; cannons, archers, riflemen, artillery, etc, etc. The second wave of her forces marched on the corpses of their peers, and broke through the city’s encirclement in only a matter of hours. When the city was cracked and forced open, her third wave poured in after the second; the procedure repeated elsewhere in the perimeter of the city four times. She had divided her forces up into fractions to allow this strategy that thinned out the defenses of the Inusian city. The strategy worked in infiltrating the city, getting behind enemy lines, and confusing the bluecoats standing against her… but it also resulted in massive losses in almost every first wave that assaulted the city. She had fought alongside her men, and she had witnessed them die for her. Screams, moans, and the rackets of gunfire and the clashing of swords rang ceaselessly throughout the entire city. The casualties had been immense, and startling. Explosions and collateral damage shattered cars on every side of the streets, and buildings collapsed, blocking alleyways and crushing entire groups of soldiers and fleeing innocents. Shattered bodies of civilians began to litter the streets more and more as they got deeper and deeper within the innards of the city. Children stood standing around, shell-shocked, or they hid and screamed. She had ordered her men not to attack children or bystanders or risk severe punishment – yet the bodies of noncombatants cluttered the battlefield regardless. In the few moments she had the chance to think idly, Vainia wondered if her army was killing the Inusian innocents, or if they were being slaughtered carelessly by the same army that was defending them. At her side were friends and in front of her were enemies, but when they were dead all the men and women around her looked the same. Inusian or Shorican, Mortisian or otherwise. She found it hard to despise a group of people when they were mixed with her own allies beneath her own feet. The battle lasted for hours and no one was given the chance to rest, especially once they made it into the city. To rest was to die; to advance, to fight, was to live. Vainia was not far from the front lines at any given time – she, Asearya, and Tasshon led her forces ever forward along with the Shorican generals from her army, driving them from one square of the city to another, encouraging them to fight ever onward, directing the wounded to the back of the advancing party, and fighting themselves. Bullets, arrows, lances, and bodies rained and polluted the air. Explosions rang through the city near and far, and exhaustion screamed in every one of her bones. Vainia and Asearya both struggled from their endless charge onward, ever onward into the city’s heart; in between screaming and close skirmishes the two would look at each other and they could see the pain and terror in each other’s eyes. After hours, the glances grew more and more frequent, but the battle refused to slow, so Vainia refused, as well. Her division, once gaining a foothold in the city, began to rush up the streets towards the tall tower of the city’s main hall, where Vainia could get a view of the entire city and effectively control her troops from every angle. They poured through slim streets, huddled around cars, fought against artillery and attackers in and on top of buildings, and suffered casualties, but they continued to endure. Her forces began to thin as the hours went on – but so too did the lines of her enemies. She dared not use her rune abilities beyond manifesting weapons and protecting her body with a layer of chains beneath her uniform. Taking hold of the city was only the first step. All throughout the battle, she could not keep herself from thinking of the next town over – her ultimate goal, and home of the next Crystal awaiting her grasp. Her forces would hold King’s Town, but she would take hold of that Crystal if she had to go and find it herself. Something in her gut told the Queen that she would need all of her power about her to succeed at her daunting task, and she dared not go against her instincts. Not again. By the time the sun started to set, Vainia began to see the colors and banners of her own armies in the spaces between buildings. Fire and flares lit up the sky, almost bright enough to hide the coming of night. The skies and the streets ran red with blood and fire. Her division behind her was only a fraction of what it was when they approached the walls of the city, but they were still hers and they were still strong. She marched on as resistance slimmed, and her rapier pointed forward, to the top of the city hall’s tower. As they grew closer to the center of the city, the amount of men behind her grew organically, each battalion they met on the way merging and looking amongst each other for reassurance and strength. When the moon was full in the sky, Vainia and her armies reached city hall of King’s Town, and the sounds of battle began to fade for the first time in days. Constantus Veit met her there, likely the sole survivor of the vanguard. He nodded to her silently. She had no speeches to give, not this day. When they reached the shattered stone steps of the capitol building, she simply raised her sword straight up into the air and gave a celebratory cheer, her face streaked with tears of exhaustion and agony. Her army was just as shattered, just as weak, just as pained – and just as proud of their victory. Almost every face looking up at her sported the same torn tears, even Asearya. The entire city roared with their excitement. She knew the battle was not won, not yet, but Vainia couldn’t help but sink into a chair within the base of city hall’s tower and sighing immensely. With the center of the city hers now, it felt like a colossal weight had been lifted from her shoulders. If nothing else, she held this city now. It would not be taken from her. Asearya began to pick over Vainia’s body and inspect her for wounds. Vainia forced an eye open and scowled at her maid. “Stop this, Asearya. You need to rest too. Summon the medic team.” The maid shook her head and pulled out a wrap of bandages from her pack. She had to speak up loudly to be heard: the entire anteroom buzzed with activity and noise, full as it was with medics, officers, soldiers reporting, and people clamoring for Vainia’s attention. “Nonsense. You are the most important person here. Your safety is paramount.” Vainia sighed, but gave in. “How is your wound? Did it pain you?” “Immensely,” Asearya confessed. “But I will be fine. A few more stitches, and I will be alright again.” She looked up to Vainia with eyes as sharp and as piercing as her own rapier. “And how about you, my lady? Your eyes… They still glow. How is your vision?” “Fine. I did not push myself much.” She felt herself shivering, and the earth rumbled from an explosion. Gunshots still rang out around the building; she had positioned a numerous amount of men around the tower in all directions to fire upon any Inusians who attempted to pounce on the capitol. Asearya continued to look up to Vainia for answers, but the Queen felt she had said enough. She waved forward a man who was nervously standing nearby, first in line with the officers seeking her attention. The man walked forward with a limp. She recognized him as the man in her camp from the other day, the one whose name she had forgotten. Again, his name slipped her mind. “Queen Vainia,” he started, bags beneath his eyes deeper than she had seen before. “Most of the battalions have started to file into the formation around the hall. An entire brigade has been lost in the storming – most of them the recaptured bluecoats.” She nodded. That was to be expected, since her vanguard had been comprised of 60% Inusian turncoats. “And how many have we captured here?” “Not many, I’m afraid. Few have surrendered.” “Probably because they did not witness what the Morshians did. As expected, I suppose.” She shifted her weight in her seat. “Give me numbers, sir.” “We have around… seventy thousand able men, from our first reports, and ninety thousand wounded or captured innocents who are not fit to fight. About double those numbers of our own have been lost, and the enemy has reported losses of almost a hundred thousand as well. Unknown counts of civilians are dead. We’ve already started building shelters and medic centers around the tower in a perimeter, and calling for all wounded in the city, bluecoat or civilian, to come and rest beneath our flag. Some five hundred thousand are estimated to still be in refuge among the city, of King’s Town’s population.” “Good,” Vainia said, but she sighed and sunk in her chair. Those were grim statistics. She had left Morshia with an army well over three hundred thousand Shoricans and bluecoats, and now less than a quarter of them were still ready to fight onward. Of that number, she knew most of them to be exhausted and likely shell-shocked beyond belief. The march through the winter had been devastating, and they had lost many men to disease, starvation, and random airship attacks, but she did not predict losses of this caliber. ‘It is alright. We are close to Kornelia… The battle is almost over. We have carved out the north in my name. All we must do is hold it, and that requires much less manpower than is needed to take.’ She waved her hand at the officer and nodded at him with satisfaction. “Thank you, sir. You have done well, in this battle and in your service. I will reward you handsomely.” He bowed deeply, and backed away with a nod to Asearya as well. The next to step within earshot was a minor officer of hers pleading for a reprieve from his guard duties, and after him was an Inusian merchant lord asking for a safe space to house his wares and the market shares of his peers in the city’s organized market. She glared at the former and waved off the latter, instructing the merchant to speak to her organizing officers and encouraging the soldier to choke on his rifle. The next to grace her was a female officer in tan, her arm bloodied and in a sling, asking for specifications for the defense mechanisms and machines they were to construct to protect the city. “Seize the rooftops and bring up our strongest artillery to keep watch over the perimeter in every direction,” Vainia answered. “I want half our able men up there at all times. Of the remaining, half will be allowed to rest and the other half will patrol the streets, taking care of resistance forces still fighting and taking care of prisoners and citizens still at large. Rotate the three groups every two hours. On with it, then.” The woman bowed, bent her good fist over her chest, and replied with a salute to the Queen’s glory. Martessa and Kamanus met her next, their faces grim and stained with ash. “It is good to see you two made it through the battle,” Vainia greeted. By then Asearya had finished her primping of Vainia and had gone off to inspect the camps that had sprung up around the great capitol building. “Same to you, my lady.” Martessa bowed deeply, and Kamanus nodded the same with crossed arms. “The battle is won, but with great losses,” he sighed. “Yes, I know. We have lost many good men… but so have the enemy.” “This is our only army,” Kamanus replied. “The Inusians have a hundred times more guns out there that can crush us if need be.” “I know this as well, Baron Casvaal. But where were they during the battle? Why was their defending force so scarce here?” She leaned forward, letting her elbow rest on her knee and her face stand on her raised fist. The question was both a rebuttal and a genuine inquiry. “This went much smoother than I expected. I did not think we would win the city in a day.” “You underestimate your own forces, my lady,” Martessa said, daring to smile. “I saw your Knight firsthand. He cut through two thousand men on his own, easily. And all of the formations you had Tasshon teach the army learn came in handy. The defenses of the Inusians crumbled.” That was to be expected. The strategies Vainia had recommended and the tactics each group of men were to enact were some she had memorized months and months ago, in the old libraries of Zeta Academy. It never ceased to amuse her how the very tactics that won Inusia domination of the world millennia ago now contributed to their downfall, long after the Empire’s power had rid them of any enemy worth practicing war tactics on. “Yes, the victory was earned… but the odds are not to be ignored. This battle was too easy.” “They aren’t trying to defend themselves,” Kamanus said, his tone as cynical as ever. He kept his eyes on Vainia’s, even when she wasn’t looking at him. “The majority of their forces aren’t here. They can’t be. There’s no airships, no cannons, no bombings. They’re toying with us.” “What do your scouts say? You sent eyes and ears all around the nation, didn’t you, Baron Casvaal?” “Aye.” He shifted uncomfortably and raised his head. “The armies of every major southern city have been raised, mobilized, and sent on airships. But they aren’t riding north. At least not yet.” ‘The west, then? Shorica?’ Vainia frowned and scratched at her chin. Her eyes were beginning to burn her. ‘That can’t be. Why would they let me lead my armies east? Surely seizing what I leave behind is worth less than defending their homeland?’ She sighed. ‘No matter. It means nothing. All I must do is cause Inusia to buckle, and hold onto it. Save their citizens and show them more care than their Inusian overlords. And show my overwhelming strength. As long as the armies of the World Government are disorganized, my own will grow, and we will sink our feet into the sand. We will not be toppled.’ “What have you heard from Shorekeep? The Eternal Corps? Leader Rin has sent no correspondence yet?” Kamanus turned his eyes away for the first time. “Nothing. My sources are silent.” That was odd to her, but Vainia did not get a chance to vocalize her fears before Martessa spoke up, her voice quiet and almost imperceptible in the noise of the central anteroom. “Queen Vainia… What of the plan you told us about, before the battle? The… the city to the east.” Vainia’s face darkened, and her hands began to writhe on each other. Her eyes throbbed again. “I mean to seize the Crystal myself.” “What?! You can’t be serious, my lady!” Even Kamanus blanched at her. “To do so would be the ultimate foolishness. You need to rest.” “I will rest when I am dead.” Vainia shifted her weight and crossed her legs. “The army and my forces need to stay here and defend the city. That much is right, and I am not foolish enough to disregard common sense in this trying time. So I will act on my own, and take the Crystal on my own. Then I will have the power enough to defend myself in a pit full of enemies, at least long enough for the army to advance once King’s Town is reasonably secure.” “You’re fooling yourself,” a deep voice said from the side of them. Vainia and her Barons turned to see Tasshon el Divrus approaching, a bandage beneath his deep cerulean bangs and a cane in his hand helping him walk towards them. “Tasshon!” Martessa gasped. “You’re hurt.” “I’m fine,” he replied quietly, turning his eyes downward but not lessening the intensity of his scowl. “Just a bullet to my thigh and a knife to my forehead. Surface wounds. I can still fight… but the same cannot be said for most of the army. Even if we have legions of men still, they are tired and they must rest. Moving forward immediately is to move to our deaths.” “That is why I said I am leaving behind the forces,” Vainia answered, unable to keep a hint of annoyance out of her voice. Her head was starting to throb as frequently as her eyes did. “I will travel on my own.” “That’s even more foolish,” Tasshon replied, emboldened apparently by his wounds. “If this is a trap, you’re walking right to your own execution, Lady Vainia.” “You think I cannot fend off a few bluecoats? You insult me, Baron Divrus.” “You can hold your own, but can you fend off an entire city? What proof do you have that the trinket you’re rushing toward even exists?” “These trinkets are what allowed me to level Morshia in an instant, Baron Divrus. Unless I have the power of them, our forces don’t stand a chance of enduring the assault of the Inusians for more than a month at most. Baron Casvaal reports the vast majority of Inusian forces are in the air somewhere, ready to strike us at any time unawares. We have the defense of this city, but that will not help us if we are outnumbered ten to one.” The young queen stood up in her frenzy, her eyes narrowing and the power from them flowing through her neck and all of her veins. “The survival of everyone here – of the righteous nation we all fight to build – it depends on me and my power. I am the turning point of this war, and I need these Crystals.” “You push yourself too much,” Kamanus added, somewhat gingerly, when Tasshon was forced silent by Vainia’s outburst. “This is not your war anymore. It involves all of us. All of us have lost family and friends. All of us fight. You are not alone, my queen.” Vainia blinked and exhaled, remembering for an instant the screams that had rose out of the palace at Grainis and mixed with the smoke. It haunted her even now. “Yes, I know. But you cannot deny how important my powers are, given our odds.” And none of them did. Tasshon bowed to her and walked away as briskly as he could, and Martessa spoke up next once Vainia retook her seat. “You should at least have the Knight go with you, and Baron Divrus to defend you, Lady Vainia.” “No. Constantus will stay here to help defend the city personally, and the Baron of War is especially needed to oversee the operations. Besides, he is too wounded to be of much help.” She shifted her legs and sighed, her eyelids suddenly heavier than ever. “I will take Asearya with me, and that is all. We will leave at first light.” With one eye closed, she looked at Kamanus as both of her Barons bowed and raised their fists to their chests. He seemed startled by the golden glow that must have been lighting up her face. Of all her confidantes, he seemed the most shaken up by her new eyesight. “I want to hear from Leader Rin before I leave. Do not fail me, my Baron.” Kamanus Casvaal gulped, but he nodded and bowed deep enough that she could not see his face, only his falling straight locks of cardinal-crimson hair. “For the Queen’s glory.” The Queen stood and nodded at him back. She could not defeat a feeling of dread still rising in her heart, or the tiredness moaning deep in her chest. She woke again to the stirrings of Asearya and dim light at the edge of her room’s windows. She had finally found sleep in a reclaimed office near the top of the tower once she stripped it of all furniture and made herself a bed out of discarded papers; now, she woke with faint sun in her eyes and a groan behind her teeth. Had the night gone by already? It felt as if she had laid down only moments ago. Every part of her still ached, and the yawn that forced itself out of her maw was larger than Constantus Veit, and louder. “Eager to steal into the castle, aren’t we?” Vainia croaked, her voice little more than a hoarse moan. “Forgive me for waking you early,” Asearya whispered, “but I had no choice. You need to hear this, my lady.” The tone of her best friend drew alarm and energy to Vainia’s mind immediately. She sat up and started to button her uniform blouse around her chest. “What is it? Is the city being attacked? Are the enemies coming by land or by air?” “From the earth,” Asearya answered. “The dead are walking once again. Bluecoats, the Shoricans… and civilians. All of them are attacking, in waves. The army has begun to panic.” Vainia felt her blood run cold. ‘No. Not again. This cannot be. Two hundred thousand died from the siege… All enemies, once more.’ She bolted out of bed and dressed quickly, taking her rapier and wrapping it around her waist. “My power. The army needs my power, to cut through the mobs and give them strength again.” “My lady,” Asearya said, still rooted in her spot at the edge of Vainia’s bed. Was that fear that trembled in her voice, or something else? “What of the castle? Your plan?” The queen hesitated, her breath momentarily hitching in her throat. ‘The Crystal.’ Her tired, bloodshot eyes pulsed again, almost like the artifact called to her very vision. “We are still going to it, you and I. After I make my statement.” She turned to her maid, making sure to project only the greatest of her confidence. “Prepare yourself. As soon as I finish, you and I will ride to the east as fast and as hard as we can.” ***** They came to the city too late to save it from being sieged, but just in time for dawn, and just in time to see a great lance of light smash straight down from the heavens to the metropolis. The Chosen Knight beside him faltered. She was holding onto his hand as they advanced through the plains, but now the color faded from her face and her hands dropped to her front. “I’ve seen that power before,” she whispered. “It is the power of at least two Crystals.” “You’re right,” Silverius said, pulling his raggedy clothes about him in the chill of the early morning. “The same power that destroyed Morshia City. I could see it from miles away.” A great wind blew past them then and threatened to knock the two of them off their feet. Silverius held onto Maria’s cloak and held a hand in front of himself as a hot, shrapnel-filled wind blew past them like a shockwave. Immediately he focused his energies and narrowed his eyes in front of him, calling forth what winds he could to shield himself and his lover. The power came to him with more difficulty than ever, but it did come to him. Just as he was about to lose his footing, a shield of dark winds wrapped around them like a blanket, keeping the majority of the wind from buffeting them to the ground. The shockwave soon passed, but it brought with it an odor that did not fade at all. It was a stench Silverius recognized, and one that never failed to make him sick to his stomach. The smell of dead, mutilated bodies wafted back from the city in all directions, accented by the smell of fire and charred meat. “Somewhere, a great mass of bodies are burning,” he wheezed, mere moments from involuntarily dry-heaving. Once she regained her footing, the Chosen Knight did not buckle over as he did. “I know that smell,” she said, looking up and towards the city. “It is the stench of corpses.” “Of course it is,” Silverius coughed. “Didn’t you see what just happened? That magic attack is the same thing that ruined that Shorican city last year. Thousands of people were burned alive, and even more were killed and shattered.” The Knight visibly paled. She looked down to Silverius and held out a hand to help him rise. Once he stood, she did not let go of his hand; if anything else, her grip tightened. “Yes, but these corpses… They will fight back against us. That rune child is killing thousands, and each dead foe of hers is another enemy for us. Don’t you see?” His stomach dropped. “You don’t mean… The Blood Knight?” She nodded grimly. “Yes. H4. He said to find him at the “city of liege”. This is King’s Town. I bet he’s already within the walls of the city, resurrecting enemies left and right. There’s certainly no shortage of them. With the amount of Najash he could create, even you and I could be defeated.” Silverius sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He felt his heart start beating faster and his blood rush through his veins. The use of his wind power had excited him, and he could feel himself growing stronger and more alert as his body began to adjust itself for battle. Now that he had been traveling, eating, and resting healthily though, he felt something more, and the sensation only grew exponentially as fearful adrenaline started to pump through him. “So what do we do? Do we go for the Knight, or for Vainia?” “I doubt the rune child will be stopped. Even if we were to confront her, she would likely engage in a fight against us, and the last thing we need is to make more enemies. If anything, we should be protecting her – I’m sure the other Knights are headed for her. She has the most Crystals on her, after all.” “Then we stop these corpses.” He started to run towards the city with the Chosen Knight at his side. Her eyes began to glow golden as well. He envied her ability to control her Tyrant Eyes. “The easiest way to do that would be to take out that Blood Knight, right?” “Right,” she answered, “but it won’t be easy. The more we fight, the more of a chance he can take over you –” “Don’t worry about that,” Silverius exclaimed. He felt his eyes burn with intensity, and he unconsciously summoned the winds to rush behind them, increasing their speed and the size of their strides. The Chosen Knight almost fell over from her newfound speed. The power felt so good in his veins – so right – that he almost laughed out loud. “You just watch my back. Once we find him, I’ll handle the rest. Come!” “The walls,” she exclaimed minutes later, when they were only a few yards away from the cracked alabaster walls of the city. “The walls! We have to stop for the walls!” ‘No,’ Silverius thought to himself, ‘we don’t.’ Sweeping his arms into his chest, Silverius then threw his arms downward, and the winds answered. Suddenly he and the Chosen Knight were tens of feet into the air in free-fall, the impact of the winds beneath them strong enough to throw them both well above the walls of the city. As they ascended, Silverius could no longer control himself, and he cackled almost giddily. Now, finally, he would have a chance to unleash his powers without regard for his safety or any troubles or doubts about his goals. His body was stronger than ever, and he had Maria at his back. No – at his side. This power was his, and this ruin was theirs. When they reached free-fall truly, and began to descend, Silverius’ smile faded as he and the Knight both got a good glimpse at the ruins of King’s town. With their eyes both glowing golden, they were able to see almost every detail of the broken metropolis spread supine before them. The city was perhaps two miles in diameter crammed between its walls, and three-fourths of the way into the city, a haphazard second perimeter of stone, wood, and brick had been haphazardly thrown together. At the center of this clearly haphazard and rushed inner wall was a great tower, around which a great mass of thousands – bluecoats, soldiers in khaki, and a much larger crowd of civilians – were visible. Outside the inner wall was a city abandoned, blown apart, and cratered. A gigantic crater, easily half a mile in diameter, lay still-smoking near the very entrance of the wall they were passing over. As they glided over the crater, the closer they got, the easier it was for the two to see that the entire city was swarming with the Najash. The corpses near and at the edge of the crater were charred, in pieces, and some of them even burning. Silverius studied them and was aghast to find that the majority of them, likely casualties from the battle that must have taken place only a day before at most, were for the most part unbroken and barely wounded. They were fresher than the corpses at Morshia, and seemed of stronger constitution. The fight would be even more difficult than it had been in the past. At last they began to land, and before they did, Silverius summoned another curtain of wind to sweep over the general area they were falling towards. The sweep of the black winds not only pushed and smashed apart any corpses that were near them, but it cushioned their landing as well. Silverius and the Knight fell to the ground and rolled together, but they stood up without any damage besides an ache in their calves. “Sorry about that,” Silverius said, rising and narrowing his eyes. He stood only to three-quarters of his full height, already keeping himself at a stance ready for battle. “I’ll warn you the next time I’m about to do that.” “The fire,” the Knight said, her eyes glowing golden and looking off towards the tower in the center of the city. “You saw the fire, didn’t you?” “What? No.” Silverius turned, his concentration momentarily lapsed. It was more and more difficult to keep the thirst for battle and blood from controlling him as the seconds moved on and the corpses around them slowly started to rise. “There’s a fire?” “On the outskirts of the city. But it’s growing. I think it is a tactic of the army to keep out the Najash. That would explain why they’re all holed up within their makeshift wall, as well.” It did make sense – Silverius found himself nodding as he looked up to the Knight’s strong profile. “But the Najash are still standing, which means the Knight isn’t among the burning sections. If anything, he’s likely to run as far away from them as possible.” “Right then,” Silverius said, falling to his nonchalant battle stance once more and summoning sword-length tempestblades around both arms. “He’s headed right towards the center of the city, then. Vainia has to be there. She just caused that gigantic attack we saw, so we know she’s still here. We find her, we find the Knight.” “Indeed.” The Chosen Knight opened up her cloak and lowered it over Silverius’ shoulders before raising her arms. “That will keep you from being controlled again.” Blades of illusory indigo shimmered into light around the both of them, pointed right to the legions of corpses crawling and running over each other to rush towards the only signs of life nearby. “You cannot hold back any longer, Crono. Do not worry about a thing. I am here with you now.” He smiled lightly, but said nothing in response. ‘My answer is my trust in you.’ With that, he burst forward like the wind, and she followed, an army’s worth of weapons all on her own. Silverius had never fought like he did that day, not once in his entire life. No more did he call on indoctrinated combat training, his own dexterity, or caution to shield himself and those who fought beside him. For the first time ever, he felt as if he fought alongside a true equal, one with just as much strength as he commanded, if not more. There was no need to fight according to reason, or a situation’s perceived threat. He let the power of the Tyrant Eyes control himself and his body willingly for the first time, and it felt good. He could feel his tempestblades growing larger and stronger with each corpse they destroyed on impact. He did not move like the wind; he was the wind, constantly moving, never pausing, always rising and falling. With both arms effectively weapons of instant death to any enemy he encountered, he let his entire body flow and float with speed; every limb was simply a vehicle to drive him further without any need for defense. He went completely untouched for hours. Buildings, the streets, fallen debris, ruins of cars – every surface was little more than a springboard and a natural shield, and even a weapon. He smashed untold amount of corpses into the environment around them, destroying their bodies easily from the force of his body’s magical power. And right by his side, always near, was the Chosen Knight. He could easily hear the swift, satisfying sound of her tangible weapons cutting through the air and through the fragile flesh of the newly dead, even above the screaming of his dark winds. Whatever few enemies he could not ruin himself, she easily crushed with her illusory weapons. No enemy even came close to the two. And as Silverius pressed ever onward, he was sure to keep a gust of wind behind him as well, protecting and rushing the Knight forward as quickly as he went. They drilled through the enemies in front of them, leaving behind nothing but more rubble and stains of broken bodies and blood. It was only when they came to the second wall that Silverius realized how long they had been fighting. They stopped for the first time and looked at each other with admiration and mutual respect. Silverius saw that the Chosen Knight was completely bloodless, and it reminded him of how bloodsoaked he was. As a precaution, he removed the cloak of hers and tossed it behind them, where the path of their destruction lay. In the time it took them to reach the inner wall, the rest of the city had almost entirely been engulfed in flames. The stench of burning flesh permeated the air like a physical cloud now. The sun had long since risen, but the sky was clear and the dark smoke from the city-wide fire left the sky as dark as it had been before sunrise. The fire encroached toward them slowly, and it had even begun to take over the ruins through which they had cut their path. Behind them lay a veritable wasteland. “You’re amazing,” Silverius breathed as he looked from the Knight to the innumerable amounts of dead behind them. “I’ve never felt like that in a fight before. We’re invincible.” “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” she answered, though her face reddened somewhat. “We still have to finish H4. He’s lurking around here somewhere. The Najash haven’t stopped coming yet.” Silverius was going to reply, but he felt a sudden alarm in his senses. He immediately dropped down to his stance of battle and raised his arms again, the winds surrounding him hot and streaked with darkness. The Knight beside him rose her hands into the air as well, but soon lowered them a moment later when a shadow darkened over them. “That presence,” Silverius breathed, slightly rising and his eyes widening. “I’d know this aura anywhere.” But it came not from in front, where they expected the Knight of Blood to spring on them. A great shadow darkened Silverius’ brow, cut by the glow from his eyes before it passed. And then, in the space of an instant, almost quicker than the eyes of the two renegades could follow, a great figure swathed in red rags stood with his great broad back to them. “You,” Silverius growled, his glare visibly intensifying. He lowered his knees to a stance almost of an animal’s, and raised his arms to gather the dark winds around him. “You should learn to stay dead.” “Wait, Crono!” The Knight put a hand in front of her partner first – but when he did not budge, she lowered her graceful fingers and pulled on the dark wisps of cloth still covering his chest. Silverius looked up to her with ruthless eyes, his viciousness enough to make the Chosen flinch. “Hold on. Do not attack just yet. He is no fool.” Gin Taoris turned slowly to cut his eyes at Silverius. A great mane of red hair flew around him in the heat-heavy wind, and he held two thick broadswords in his hands, as always. “Your woman is right, boy. Listen to her for once.” “Boy?!” This time Silverius had to be physically restrained from pouncing on the Crimson Death. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him!” “You can try, if you’d like to waste your time.” Taoris turned his back again and raised his swords in the air, looking hard at each one and his biceps visibly flexing beneath the tattered cloak hanging from his shoulders. “I was ordered to stay here and protect this city, so that is what I will do. But you two… there are other, more important battles to fight right now. More important people.” “The rune child,” the Knight breathed, her eyes narrowing. Silverius looked between them both, confused. “What? What about Vainia? The Knight?” “He wants us to let him handle the Blood Knight, I believe. But… Does that mean…” “You’re right. My queen is not here in this city any longer. She has gone west, to a Crystal, and I cannot go after her to protect her.” He turned around one last time, glaring deeply into Silverius’ soul. “But you can.” The Chosen Knight froze, and Silverius faltered out of her grip. “No… She has gone to the Castle? With her Crystals? But that means…” “Means what? What does that mean?” Silverius rose to his feet, still glancing towards Taoris tensely. “That means we must meet her with haste. Come, Crono. Come on!” She pulled on Silverius’ arm and looked up to the wall. Her message was clear: they needed to escape, and they needed his powers to move quicker than their legs could take them. Silverius hesitated, though, and looked back to Taoris’ unyielding back. In front of the warrior in red, the legions of dead had reformed their ranks and advanced at a leisurely walking pace. Just behind the front lines of the organized dead army, a figure in a faded vermillion hooded cloak looked at them all, the shadows of his face and the glowing golden eyes from beneath it like a searchlight burned just barely. Taoris had lowered his blades and turned his back again, and the flames licking higher on every side of the ruined city made his shadow ever taller. The Hero of Wind raised his hands and summoned a great dark tempest around him and the Chosen Knight, ready to launch them into the air at any moment. “Hey, you piece of shit! I’ll be back, and I’ll see you again! The next time we meet… We’re settling this, and I’ll wipe you off the face of the earth! You’re going to be my first victim when all of this is over!” And then they were in the air, going east and sailing just to the side of the great tower in the center of the city. The wind blew Silverius’ hair in front of his eyes, and he turned to the east along with the Chosen Knight as the two sailed hand-in-hand. He did not look back to the Crimson Death, but he could very vividly imagine the satisfied smile of a rival’s bloodlust that the man must have worn – because Silverius wore one as well, with pride. ...End of Chapter Fifty-Two. <- Previous Page | Main Page | Next Page->